


Hit Me Up

by theprincessed



Series: When Our Bodies Double [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Spanking, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:50:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Jessie meet up in New York again and she teaches him not to snoop through other people's stuff, unless you're willing to take the consequences.</p><p>(aka yet more louis het porn help me I'm stuck)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> IDEK!! This is apparently what happens when I'm daydreaming in work...
> 
> At this point, Jessie is mostly an OC lol.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this little *cough*4,000 words*cough* ficlet!

When Jessie had said to “hit me up” if Louis was ever to return to New York, Louis didn't think that he'd have the opportunity at all if he was honest with himself, never mind so soon after their last time together in a hotel suite in a different city. She seemed to take it all in her stride, randomly called up whilst DJing in Las Vegas to join an impromptu, wild night of group sex, and it's that fact that's got Louis nervous now, staring at his phone with a text half composed feeling some sense of déjà vu that doesn't quite fit. Their first meeting had been friendly, their second unexpectedly eventful and the unknown of this possible third was making him fidgety.

An hour later, it's 1am and Louis' sitting in a darkened, quiet bar nursing a Corona he doesn't particularly want but felt he had to order for something to keep him occupied and to blend in with the crowd. Not that there's much of one here, mostly small groups of old men, grumbling about the sport on the telly and a barman who doesn't give a shit who he is. In short, it's a perfect choice by Jessie and Louis just wants to see her again.

“Hey baby, come here often?” a voice whispers past his ear as he's starting to peel the label from his bottle. His heart leaps into his mouth even though he knows who it is or maybe because of it, Jessie sliding onto the stool next him.

He stares at her for a beat then looks away with a light snort as she grins and adjusts the peak of her baseball cap. This one is navy and her wavy hair is pulled into a ponytail through the back, her outfit of ripped jeans and a parka over a slouchy jumper as casual as Louis' joggers, hoodie and unstyled fringe. He turns to her when she nudges his elbow with hers, her smile dimmed to a dangerous smirk, like she knows exactly what Louis thinks and wants before he's said so. He's used to being pretty forthright with his emotions, but she seems to unlock something else in him entirely, connecting them up to his urges to test, defy and provoke.

“Will you - ” he blurts then stops and licks his dry lips instead because he can't just say what he's thinking, can he?

Jessie tilts her head, calculating, seeing straight through him. “Do you wanna see my apartment?”

Louis opens his mouth, but still can't find what he wants to say, so he nods.

\---

“I mean, it's not much, but it's home.”

Louis follows Jessie as she opens her front door and flicks on the main light. It's more than a shoebox space because she still makes a decent living, but it doesn't seem enough for a woman with a varied career history as hers. It feels lived in and rather homey though and Louis' curiosity tingles in his fingertips.

“It's sick,” he says. He shrugs off his hoodie and watches on, amused, as Jessie takes it from him like a proper hostess before proceeding to toss it over the back of the sofa next to her own coat.

“Fancy a tour?”

He's enjoying her company and their banter, so he agrees, laughing behind his hand as she dramatically recounts inane non-stories about her fridge and takes him through her extensive collection of vinyl records.

“If you're gonna start on the next shelf, I'll need a wee,” he warns when they get to the end of the first one.

Jessie rolls her eyes. “Nervous, huh?” she jokes, smirking again. Damn her. “Down the hall, second door on your right.”

Louis follows her directions, does his business with zero bathroom snooping because he's a good boy and is half out of the doorway when a little bit further down the corridor he spots a third, closed door. Every other is slightly ajar, silently inviting, but Louis isn't interested. Typically, the room that says it's not for prying eyes is what causes him to rebel the most. He knows he's been gone too long, so quickly seizes the moment, turns the handle and tiptoes inside. For a moment, he's worried that it's Jessie's bedroom and that he's really overstepped the mark until he actually opens his half-closed eyes and takes a proper look. The room is dark and windowless, but he can still make out that there is a bed and it's stripped of all soft furnishings, instead made entirely of a sturdy wooden frame and a leather bound sort of mattress. Louis' eyes widen at the metal chains hanging slack at the foot of the bed, the racks nailed to the walls and a funny looking contraption in the corner. It reminds him of a gymnastics horse without the soft padding on top, instead flat and a wooden 'A' frame with little cuffs attached to the four legs. Louis steps forward, transfixed, and is reaching out to the nearest rack when the room suddenly floods with light from the hallway.

“Shit! Fuck! I'm so sorry!” he cries, jumping out of his skin and turning to face Jessie's silhouette in the doorway. “I shouldn't - I didn't mean – I just - ”

“You found it then.”

His mouth trembles uselessly, at a loss for words, because he thought she'd be _angry_ , but she sounds like she's talking about the weather. Faced with the embarrassment of being caught out, Louis does the only thing he knows how to do.

“It's very, uh, Fifty Shades of you,” he quips shakily.

“Oh pretty boy, I'm offended, ” she croons, the door clicking shut behind her as a shiver runs up Louis' back at the tone of her voice, like he knows nothing. It's pretty accurate. “This is nothing like that crock of shit.”

“Sorry,” he blushes.

The relief that Jessie doesn't seem to be cross with him is short-lived when she runs her fingers through the splayed ends of the nearest whip to them. It's black, has a handle and is surprisingly soft to the touch when she grabs Louis' hand in hers and strokes his fingers against it, but still looks so fucking scary. “It's okay. What do you want to know? I can show you if you like?”

“Nah,” he tries to laugh, but it gets stuck in his throat, everything feeling suddenly overwhelming, “nah, you're alright, I can just – fuck – I'll - ”

Jessie puts her hands on either side of Louis' head until he's staring into her eyes. “Hey, breathe for me, Lou,”

“Fuck off!” he spits, knocking her away and crossing the room.

He means it lightly and feels his lips twitch into a smile when she snorts and comes up behind him. “Language,” she chides gently. In the next breath, she shoves him forward with one hand clamped to his shoulder and the other in the centre of his back until he's pushed over the wooden apparatus in the corner. “Naughty boys with filthy mouths get punished around here,”

“Fuck,” he whimpers unthinkingly, Jessie's hand moving to his head, pushing his face down until his cheek hits the wood and he's bent over properly. She steps sideways and crouches to his eye level, stroking his fringe away from his face.

“Listen to me, Louis. I need you to tell me if this is too much. You should have a word that you can say that will end this at any time,”

He frowns at her serious change in expression, but takes it all on board when she blinks at him expectantly. He searches his mind for something, remembers the beer at the bar in a flash of inspiration. “Corona.”

“Corona it is.”

He feels mildly ridiculous when Jessie leaves his line of sight, the reality of his predicament settling in at the touch of soft leather clasped around his ankles and fingers swiping slowly once again through his hair. “There we go,” she purrs, being unusually gentle.

It makes him twitchy because he likes her bossy and giving him attitude, it turns him on enough that he met up with her in the early hours of the morning in a city he barely knows, glad that he has two days before the next concert on tour. However, the reasons for the switch become startlingly clear when her palm rubs his clothed arsecheek, disappears then quickly comes back with a smack. Louis jerks and gasps out a strangled, shocked breath but his body hardly moves, restrained so thoroughly over the horse. His cock thickens the more Jessie hits him the next few times in quick succession, the sound dulled by the material of his joggers but the sensation felt enough from the power she's using. 

He only realises that she's a little breathless herself as she leans towards his ear, her hand back to rubbing his arse. “I wanna take these off, yeah?”

With his face warm against the wood and a flush spreading underneath the bulk of his hoodie, Louis holds Jessie's gaze and nods as best as he can.

Her hands find his joggers' waistband and pulls. His vulnerability climbs another notch, standing with his clothes pooled at his feet and cuffed in a girl's otherwise ordinary apartment, even though she's seen him naked before, seen his most intimate parts, has _fucked_ him deep. He flushes from the memory, his skin breaking out in goosebumps. She pats him comfortingly then gives him another smack, this time on his other cheek. It balances the throbbing hurt and soon Louis is mindlessly rutting forward, trapping his dick against the frame in time with her spanking. He can't quite wrap his head around that Jessie is actually _spanking him_ with her palm, only his thin boxer briefs separating her from his bare arse. He gets in a handful of thrusts before she firmly grips his squirming hips.

“Stay still,” she orders, treating him to a quick little glancing slap on the crease of his thigh, “or I'll have to whip you,”

Louis' eyes fall shut and he moans helplessly, taken back to the feel of that one whip brushing across his fingertips. 

“Already?” she asks, grabbing a chunk of his hair to yank him up and pushing her other hand down the back of his underwear. “Wow, you like this, huh? Not knowing when the next strike is gonna come?” His knees nearly give way when her index finger brushes over his hole and curls with the slightest pressure, but his bonds hold fast with his hands white-knuckled around the wood. “You're gonna look so pretty for me,” she adds, realising that he can't find it in him to speak, “my good boy, your skin all pink and sore, getting spanked and begging me to let you come,”

“Please,” he whines, the slick tip of his dick smearing on the edge of her furniture. 

She takes hold of his erection and strokes a couple of times, fast and squeezing underneath the head, more precome oozing out. “Keep going.” He pleads over and over and long after she's stopped wanking him, her hands returning to his arse where she lifts the waistband of his underwear up so that the material draws in and the underside of his cheeks are visible. “Not enough,” she mumbles seemingly to herself, but Louis begs some more just in case, groaning at every pass of her hand. His arse feels gloriously hot and raw, like he's leaned against a radiator for too long and ignored the need to move away and the picture he makes must please Jessie because she presses a soft kiss to his flaming cheekbone then bends to carefully do the same to his arse. The contact smarts and he tries to reflexively clamp his thighs together even though he knows it's impossible, the sound of her delighted giggle causing another blush to roll entirely over his body. He hisses out a breath when she presses her thumbs to the crease of his thighs and flexes her fingers into his skin, his arse rippling with the movements of her playing around. 

“Come on, I wanna hear you more than that or you're not getting anything else. Pull these off, there's a good boy,” she says, snapping the waistband a few inches below his waist so that the elastic smacks the reddened flesh. Louis keeps his face close to the wood and awkwardly shimmies his boxers down to join his joggers, sighing a little as cool air settles over him. “Such a nice ass, wanna do so much to you. Remember you asked for this,”

There's a long pause and Louis tightens his fingers around the wood in intense anticipation before sudden, electrifying pain blooms across his exposed arse. “Fuck me!” he yells, knocking his knee into the frame as he jolts forward.

It's the hardest smack yet, the crack sounding over his shout, and he breathes hard through his nose as Jessie gently rubs the spot she hit.

“Nuh uh, watch your language,” she sing-songs.

Although he's facing away from her but can move his head to look, Louis resists and concentrates on hearing her footsteps, measured as she walks from one end of the room to the other and back. His only other warning that she's about to do something else is the feel of soft leather against his arse then more heat bursts onto his skin.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my g-god!” he pants, voice cracking.

It's different to Jessie's open palm smacks, much more intense and covering a greater area with a hundred points of sensation at once.

“This is actually a flogger,” she explains calmly, twirling the handle so that the ends of the whip continually smooth over his arse until she lands another hit.

The snaps of the flogger carry on long enough that Louis loses track of how many times she's uses it, his mind drifting in and out of seconds of pain and respite and hearing himself get loud and incoherent until he's gone loopy with want and the need to have her hands on him again. His arse burns now, but his cock still drips and although he doesn't fully understand it, he'll chase the orgasm at the end of it so hard that only Jessie stopping the whipping can bring him back to the surface. 

“Stop,” she barks when he grumbles, “stop humping the horse like a bitch in heat,”

Louis face flushes like never before, trying to break how she's denying him the chance to come. “I'm not.”

“What did you just say?”

Her tone of voice is dark and firm and Louis shudders. He hesitates then mentally shrugs, “I'm not doin' anythin',”

She cracks the whip onto his arse with a displeased growl. “Don't you dare lie to me! Good boys don't lie,” She whips him once, twice and leaves a gap before the third to make him flinch.

“I'm not, I'm not, I'm not,” he cries, even though he is and he was shamefully doing as she says, but he can't stop running his mouth because she's so fucking hot like this and he wants more.

She whips him through his stubborn claim of innocence to the point that tears dot his eyelashes and then there's a clatter. Louis falls silent as, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the flogger lying by his feet. He hears the clink of metals before Jessie comes to stand in front of his bent position. 

“I've changed my mind. If you're going to lie about being a greedy slut then I'm gonna make sure that you can't say anything at all. Open up.” She tugs at his chin and Louis lets his mouth slacken, his eyes widening when Jessie pushes a plastic ball between his lips to gag him. She secures the strap around the back of his head and fixes him with a stern look of disappointment. “As punishment for your behaviour, you're not allowed to come.”

Louis tries to protest but the ball gag makes him drool and garble his words entirely, mortified that he can't control something as simple as keeping spit in his mouth.

“Tap your foot on the floor twice if you need to me to stop, Louis, okay? Do you understand?”

He blinks and an unshed tear from earlier rolls down his cheek as he manages to make a soft _uh huh_ sound in the back of his throat. Jessie wipes his face clean and cups his jaw. “My pretty silent boy,” she coos, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose.

As she steps around him and picks up the flogger on her way behind, he tries to follow her touch, but can only go so far before she's out of reach, his arse throbbing from it's working over.

“Hold that, please,” she tells him and wiggles the handle of the flogger vertically between his cheeks. Louis goes to take it from her. “No, no, baby, hold it _right there_ and don't move.”

The angle makes his shoulder ache and his fingers are cramping from holding onto the wood so hard, but he obeys without any noisy complaint and listens to her inspecting the racks for a second time. When her hands do return they're slightly wet and the contrast is so soothing as he struggles to remember if he saw a sink tucked away somewhere in the room when he was nosing around. His confusion clears when Jessie takes the flogger from him and touches her thumb to his hole. He inhales, ready to say something through the gag, to plead, because being lubed up for god knows what else is just too hot to handle without anything to stop him from coming, but she doesn't try to finger him at all. Instead, she slicks his rim then places something cool and mostly flat right against his arse. She carefully taps it on each cheek in little circles, a steady _pat pat pat_ that feels like hundreds of pinpricks over the heat of his previous spankings and a tremor running through him as she uses her thumb and index finger to spread him open. He clenches as she inspects him then, quick as the whip, cracks it carefully near to his hole. He yelps loudly and rears up, the frame squeaking against the concrete and moving forward an inch in Louis' shocked desperation to get away. He growls through the gag, but all his words and cursing are lost in the obstruction, Jessie immediately switching to gentle. 

“Shhh, easy, easy,” she whispers, running the whip from the small of his back to over his shoulder and underneath his chin, lifting his face to her standing in front of him. Her eyes are kind and proud and Louis lets his frown fall away. “That was so fucking hot, baby, watching your hole flutter, hungry for something to fill it.” She pulls the whip up and drags it across his wet mouth, so that he can see that it's a riding crop. Such a small thing had given such huge sensation, made his dick so hard. “Let's get you out of this thing, yeah?”

He closes his eyes and exhales, relieved when he feels the snap of the cuffs opening free his ankles. He stays bent over for a moment, not sure if his legs won't just buckle from underneath him if he let's go, but Jessie has other ideas still and he wobbles into the grip of her pushing him to his knees. He tries to right himself with his clothes twisted around his feet and ends up staring up at her leaning against the side of the horse, her hand back grasping his chin.

“Did you enjoy that?” she leans over his shoulder as best as she can and manages to smack his arse again, making him moan an answer through the gag. “You're so desperate to come now, aren't you? In the end you were such a good boy for me. I just need you to do one last thing and then I'll help you and you know how to do this very well.” Jessie opens her jeans one-handed, pushes them and her knickers down to mid thigh and spreads her legs as much as she can, reclining. Louis had almost forgotten that she's been fully-clothed throughout and it's a thrill to see her offer herself up as a reward for playing by her rules. She slowly peels the ball gag away from his glistening mouth. Her face is serious, expression darkened by lust. “You know what I want, Louis.”

Her hands sink into his hair and tugs as he surges up and nuzzles into her with soft lips. His tongue curls around and flicks her clit with practised ease and they both groan at her getting wetter, just as secretly eager to come as Louis is. That's one of the things he loves most about their meetings – it's always electric, but more than that, it's always mutually beneficial. Jessie gets off on taking him down a peg or two and he gets a good thing at the end of his suffering. The torture is exquisite and addictive and so very worth it. 

Making sure to make plenty of noise now that he has the permission, Louis looks up through his eyelashes. Jessie has her head thrown back and the hand not harshly gripping Louis' hair is moving beneath her jumper, groping her tits in time with the circling of her hips. He licks at her faster and sneaks two fingers in, smiling to himself at the flexing of her trapped thighs and the high breathy sound of surprise she lets out.

“Fuck, Lou, yeah, right there, baby,” she whimpers, the fingers on his head flying down to grasp and direct his wrist. He lets her have it, concentrating on tasting his efforts and slide of his fingers inside her pussy. She scratches his forearm and holds him close as she comes, shivering with a giggle when Louis cheekily sucks on her clit some more. “Hey, hey, it's your turn now, pretty boy.”

Like music to his ears, he stands with great difficulty, his trainers making it hard to kick off everything below the waist, but their laughter stops when Jessie bluntly grabs his cock. “Oi, careful, it's attached to me,” he jokes, pushing her hair behind her ear with a smile.

“I'm a little fond of it too,” she smirks.

She kisses him before Louis can say anything else and he melts into it, biting her lip as she corkscrews her palm around his length and wanks him in earnest. He's ashamed to admit that he doesn't last long, but is pretty sure he can be forgiven with a sexy woman working his dick and a mischievous finger pressing into his hole. He squeezes tightly around her finger, helpless to the spike of adrenaline it gives, and kisses her deeply, frantically pulling up Jessie's jumper just in time to stop getting come on her clothes. 

He buries his sweaty face into her neck when the aftershocks have faded for them both.

“How is that helpful?” she grumbles, nudging his shoulder with the ball of her come-covered hand, her stomach also sticky with it.

“Have you quite finished? I was tryin' not to come on your clothes,” he retorts, stepping backwards and reaching down for his joggers before remembering his wet cock.

Jessie rolls her eyes. “So you came _on_ me instead? Of course, that makes sense,”

“Just get me a tissue or something,”

She walks towards the bed and the pack of wet wipes sitting on a crate box beside it, cleans herself up then throws a few to him. Although he knows they're only joking around, he can tell by her face that the gears in her mind are turning. “Looks like I'm gonna have to teach you some self control because delaying orgasms doesn't seem to be working anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” Louis' lip curls, faux unimpressed, heart racing. “Try me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies x
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com). I need more people to bug me about finishing my hundreds of Larry WIPs lol.


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